Grimoires and Where to Find Them by Raconteur, Honor (ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📕

done in the next two days. Speed is called for, here. My friend Leor mentioned one person in particular—a man by the name of Walcott who was trying to assemble the set. But there might be others. Perhaps you can even call them, if they’re listed in the phone book.”

“It would save you a lot of time.”

I didn’t think all the brokers had a phone, though. They were still relatively new here. Unfortunately. You have no idea how much I bemoan the lack of phones.

“And what are the two of us doing, Henri?”

“I have three people I wish to speak with.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Marvella Radman—she’s the descendant of the man who created the series, and she was the one who either sold or gave away most of the volumes. She’ll know who has what.”

“Oooh. I definitely want to talk to her.”

“Elfrida Bramwell, a friend of both mine and Leor’s. She supposedly has the sixth volume, and I’d like to see if she still has hers or knows anything about the others. Elfrida is a more sociable person and might be more up-to-date on news.

“And, finally, Jere Mortimer. Jere’s a friend who I attended university with, and an excellent craftsman. He was in the unenviable position of crafting new boxes for all of the volumes, according to Leor. He’ll know more about the protections the grimoires need.”

I was really happy with this interview list. It sounded as if Henri had collected the right names from his friend. I did adore talking to people who were both experts in their fields and familiar with the situation.

“That sounds great. And can we talk to these people today?”

“I took the liberty of borrowing Leor’s phone and setting up appointments with both Lady Radman and Elfrida, who are expecting us within the next two hours or so. Jere is harder to pin down. I think we’ll have to swing by his workshop and hope to catch him. I called Walcott, as well, but there was no answer. We can run by his office later.”

Henri had called people. Voluntarily. Wow, he really was mad about these thefts. Like, I thought the world would have to be in danger before Henri voluntarily picked up a phone. But it was also a sign that the situation was potentially that dangerous. Henri was clearly worried. And if he was worried, I definitely should be.

I wasn’t the type of teacher to hover, so I didn’t try to micromanage my students. I stood, collecting my messenger bag and coat.

“I’ll let you guys manage the broker interviews. It’s more of a head’s up and a request for info, if they have it. Try Walcott again—he’s definitely a priority. He might know quite a bit of info about the set if he’s trying to collect the whole thing. Keep us posted, okay?”

People nodded. Gerring was already going to request a couple of phones and a conference room to work in, smart man. Henri scooped up the cats and got them situated under his coat even as we headed for one of the cars in the back lot.

“Raining,” Clint complained to him.

“That’s why I put you under the coat,” Henri retorted with a roll of his eyes.

“You won’t melt, Clint,” I threw in, shaking my head.

Tasha popped her head up and grinned at me. “Wizard of Oz!”

I gave her a high-five. “That’s my girl.”

As we prepared to dash out into the rain, I gave Henri a side-eye. Since I knew him rather well at this point, I shot him a teasing look and asked innocently, “Should I drive?”

He shot me a look in return, dry as dust. “No. I prefer to live.”

“It’s not like I’d speed in the rain.”

Yes, I was goading him further for my own entertainment.

“Your idea of speeding and mine are vastly different, my dear. I’ll drive.”

And I’d probably be grey before we got there. But I’d live. And Henri might really have a heart attack if I drove on a day like this.

Relationships are all about compromise, right?

Logistically speaking, Jere’s workshop was the closest to us, despite being on the edge of town. And since it might take several attempts before we caught him, I decided to drive by there first.

Jamie sat in the passenger seat, absently petting Tasha in her lap, the pad in her free hand. She was shaking her head in some mix of amusement and resignation.

“I should have known she’d latch onto that first.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fax machine.” Jamie looked up and blinked, as if realizing I wouldn’t be able to follow what she meant by that. “Ah, sorry, let me back up. We have a machine on Earth that allows documents and pictures to be sent via a telephone line.”

I almost missed a stop sign, that’s how jarring the idea was to me. “But how can that possibly be accomplished?!”

“I can’t give you the nuts and bolts, sorry. I’m not an expert on this myself. But what the machine does is break down the image into little chunks of data and then transmit that information along the telephone line. Another machine on the other end interprets the info and prints a physical copy. Which, I grant you, would be really freaking handy in this world. We’d save a lot of time if we could fax records back and forth between police stations.”

My mind whirled at the implications. The ability to send data like this across cities, perhaps even countries, thrilled me. So much information could be shared, and without the costs and delays of sending it by courier.

“How quick is this?”

“Hmm, depends on what you’re sending? You have to understand, fax machines were starting to fall out of use by the time I came here. Email is a lot faster and more convenient. I think only hospitals and law offices still used fax machines regularly. And government offices because they change as quickly as a slow-moving glacier. But a single page could be transmitted in about five